


Lairs

by LadyDrace



Series: Junk Ficlets from Tumblr [138]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Banter, Feelings Realization, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gaming, Getting Together, Happy Ending, M/M, POV Stiles, browser games, flight rising - Freeform, frenemies to lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-17 07:08:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13654008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyDrace/pseuds/LadyDrace
Summary: Derek plays Flight Rising. This is news to Stiles.





	Lairs

**Author's Note:**

  * For [flightyvandal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flightyvandal/gifts).



> Originally [posted on Tumblr](http://ladydrace.tumblr.com/post/159345725376/lairs) as a birthday present for the lovely Jess. <3
> 
> FYI: Flight Rising is a cute little browser game about collecting dragons, and either breed them, do combat, collect _all the things_ or just write novels about them in their bios. It's good fun, and also super chill.
> 
> Unbetaed.

”Derek!” Stiles calls in the direction of the area of the loft which would generously be labeled the kitchen. ”Just gonna borrow your laptop for a sec, okay?”

 

”Sure,” Derek says, followed by the sound of running water. ”Just don't close my tabs.”

 

Stiles' brain is already running through fifteen different ways to search for what he needs, and the cursor is hovering over the _new tab_ button when he realizes what Derek was doing before he went to the kitchen. ”Dude!” Stiles blurts, as Derek comes over, wiping his hands on a dish towel. ”Is this... your lair!?”

 

Derek comes around table so he can see the screen and then shrugs, like it's no big deal, which just goes to show there's something seriously wrong with him. ”Yeah.”

 

Stiles whirls around to stare at him, open-mouthed and incredulous. ”You. _You_ have a Flight Rising account,” he says flatly, because it's actually breaking his brain a little bit.

 

”Yeah. It's relaxing.”

 

”I _know_! How have you not sent me a friend request? No, scratch that, how did you not _tell_ me?!”

 

Shrugging again, because he's definitely not getting how big this is, Derek just sits down next to Stiles, leaning back in the couch all casually, like this isn't a _huge fucking deal_. ”Didn't know you played too.”

 

”Bullshit. How can you not know?! I've definitely mentioned it!”

 

”Sometimes I don't listen when you talk,” Derek says, brutally honest, which Stiles appreciates, really. And okay, Stiles can buy that. Even Scott doesn't listen to every word out of his mouth, and even if he did he wouldn't remember all of it. But still, Stiles is determined to be cranky at Derek about this.

 

”All right, fair enough, but I'm _hurt_ , Derek. Mortally fucking wounded that you are not friending me right this second, so I'm gonna do it for you, hah, see how easy it is?” he rants as he types in his username.

 

Derek looks at him with a tiny quirk in the corner of his mouth, not enough to really be a smile. Like Stiles is a mildly interesting trained animal. Which is miles better than the too-familiar face of Stiles-induced-displeasure that still pops up every so often. Which is uncalled for, frankly, they're friends now. Sort of. Or at least they will be when Stiles gets home and accepts the request, _hah_.

 

Stiles sends himself Derek's friend request, and is totally ready to take a greedy tour through Derek's lair to check out all this stuff when Derek elbows him, and reminds him he was doing something.

 

”Google. Right,” Stiles mutters, and gets his brain back on track.

 

When he gets home to his own laptop, though, there it is. The tiny little notification that he has a friend request, and he accepts it gleefully, immediately setting out to snoop through Derek's profile.

 

His dragons are amazing, and he has an eye for gene combinations that Stiles completely lacks, but feels like he makes up for with his quirky naming skills. One of Derek's dragons is named _Phil_ , completely unironically. Stiles weeps inside.

 

As he moves through the different sections it becomes clear that they tend to focus on different things. Stiles is all about the apparel, while Derek is a rampant familiars hoarder. Stiles never has an empty nest, and exalts everything he doesn't sell, while Derek doesn't seem to have bothered with breeding at all. Derek is a Coliseum fiend, while Stiles is a mad brewer at the cauldron.

 

The only thing they seem to agree on is that bios are _everything_. Lengthy, sweeping epics about origins and personalities, character developments and small story snippets, detailing each dragon's history and their place in the world. Stiles reads every single multi-page bio of Derek's dragons, hours dragging on into the night as he dives into it, feeling like he's seeing a whole new side of Derek. A side full of creative energy and _emotion_. Certainly more emotion than he's ever seen Derek display in real life. But it's all right there, line after line lovingly typed to fit every colorful dragon in his lair.

 

Stiles falls a little bit in love, there's no denying it.

 

It only gets worse when Derek doesn't immediately ignore him. Stiles engages with Derek at every opportunity, initiates trades and replies to forum comments, and Derek... responds. Trades things in return. Messages Stiles about good apparel auctions or giveaways, or brainstorms about bios. It's a little surreal, actually.

 

Pack meetings and any other contact they have remains the same. Mostly business, very little pleasure, and a pretty hefty dose of random arguments, because despite all that mutual life saving they've done over the years there's still no one better to rub them both the wrong way than each other.

 

But in his Flight Rising inbox Stiles has a dozen message threads from Derek about all kinds of things, that somehow makes him seem more real than the actual Derek every did. Probably because real life Derek still puts on this face of determined scowling anytime he's forced to have company, and it only slips very rarely.

 

One time it does, though, is when Stiles takes issue with Derek's new dragon after a pack meeting.

 

”No, no, Derek, _no_. You _cannot_ name a dragon _Paul_.”

 

”Why not? It's a perfectly good name,” Derek tells his mug of tea, not even granting Stiles his full attention.

 

”It's a _human_ name! There are a million Pauls in the world! This is fantasy! You have the whole alphabet at your disposal, you could give this glorious, fantastical creature literally _any name you want_! And you go with... _Paul!_ ” Stiles gesticulates so hard he almost knocks into Derek's tea, and he scoots up the couch a little to keep it out of reach.

 

”I felt like it fit the theme.”

 

Stiles snorts. ”Theme. Right. Lemme guess, white suburban middle class names?”

 

Derek finally looks at him, face completely blank, like he's serious, which just goes to show he's a secret joker. ”How did you know?”

 

There's no stopping the massive flail of protest, and Derek actually snorts at him, which kinda makes him flail more, because Derek showing emotions is always cause for excitement. ”Dude, I'm _begging_ you, let me pick a better name. I'll pay for the renaming scroll myself!”

 

”You leave Paul alone. He happens to _like_ his name. And as soon as I finish his bio you'll see why.”

 

”Aw, dude, don't tell me. He was named after his great uncle Paulie who taught him the magic of draconic self-gratification, and lewd tail movements to get all the babes.”

 

”It's like you read my mind,” Derek says with an eyeroll and goes back to drinking his tea. But Stiles can see him smile against the lip of the cup, and oh no, that's butterflies. In Stiles' stomach. Because he made Derek Hale smile.

 

 _Goddammit_.

 

After that, it only gets worse.

 

Gushing about an auction he sold for an outrageous amount of gems gets him a soft sort of smile, while he's busy rambling about all the stuff he's gonna buy. It makes him stumble over his words a little bit, but Derek doesn't seem to mind.

 

A casual chat about leveling makes Derek admit he made it to level twenty-five with another dragon, and he actually blushes when Stiles cheers. But, come on, it takes _abnormal_ patience in Stiles' opinion, and is therefore worthy of celebration.

 

But nothing beats the time Derek completely breaks down laughing. Stiles doesn't even remember what he was saying, all of it drowning in white noise as his brain shuts down, because Derek is stupidly beautiful when he laughs, all bunny teeth and eye crinkles, and Stiles is gonna _melt_. Not that Derek wasn't beautiful before, but it was a distant kind of beauty. Like in an art museum. Look, but don't touch. This Derek is laughing and wiping his eyes and shaking his head at Stiles, and looking all kinds of real and solid and touchable.

 

And it only took a stupid little browser game to get here. It's enough to tilt Stiles' world view, honestly.

 

”Do you think I should add something to Shazehlia's bio?” Stiles asks one night. ”I dunno, I feel like it's missing something.”

 

”Like what?” Derek asks distractedly, busy cleaning up his hoard, because he's anal that way. He sends whatever he doesn't need over to Stiles for transmuting, though, which is nice of him.

 

Stiles taps lightly at his laptop keys, just to give his fingers something to do as he reads through what he's already written. ”I dunno. Something about her family, maybe? I mean, sure, there's her personal journey, but... family is everything, you know?”

 

There's a pause, and it takes a second for Stiles to realize it's suddenly quiet. More than quiet. He turns to find Derek looking at him, not even breathing. But there's an odd look in his eyes. Sort of... searching. ”Yeah,” Derek says finally, breath leaving him in a sigh, and his gaze sticks to Stiles for another long while before he turns back to his own laptop.

 

Stiles has _no_ idea what to do with that.

 

But apparently Derek does, and the next time they're arguing, rehashing the same old argument of naming and exalting for the umpteenth time, Derek just stops dead all of a sudden, setting his jaw like he's made up his mind about something. Stiles has half a second to start worrying if he's finally gonna have his throat ripped out, when Derek darts forward, and captures Stiles' lips in a kiss instead.

 

It's tiny, quick, and surprisingly soft, but it makes Stiles' brain screech to a halt down as effectively as an emergency brake. So he just stands there, mouth dropping open as Derek pulls back, looking kinda sheepish and clearing his throat uncomfortably.

 

“Hrm. Well. Uhm.”

 

It's gratifying to know that Stiles isn't the only one getting tongue-tied sometimes. “Uhhhh. What was that for?”

 

Derek actually fidgets, and it's stupidly adorable. “Well. It seemed as good a way as any to get you to shut up,” he says, obviously aiming for brusque, but missing by a mile.

 

“Riiiight,” Stiles says, feeling a huge grin growing on his face, because Derek _kissed him_. “That was the only reason.”

 

“Right.”

 

“Soooo. Me kissing you back would be completely outta line?” Stiles asks, just to be sure. Consent is important, after all. Especially with Derek.

 

There doesn't seem to be any problem now, though, considering that Derek actually blushes, and looks to the ceiling as if praying for strength. “Well. No. I suppose not.”

 

“You suppose?”

 

“Okay, no. No, it wouldn't be outta line at all,” Derek grits out, as much of an emotionally constipated asshole as always, but that's fine, Stiles can work with that, and accepts the challenge with a kiss of his own.

 

“You're still wrong, though,” he says, several kisses later, and Derek glares at him, hair every which way from being tugged, and lips flushed and swollen.

 

“Whatever you need to believe to feel better about yourself,” Derek huffs, and then kisses him some more.

 

Stiles supposes he can live with it.

 

Probably.

 

End.

 

 

 


End file.
